


Bad Case of Loving You

by AndreaLyn



Series: Fit To Print [2]
Category: West Wing
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-29
Updated: 2012-04-29
Packaged: 2017-11-04 12:27:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Assistants get their scheduled boss time, Danny Concannon writes an article, and all hell happens to break loose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Case of Loving You

  
Nobody had to tell Donna what was going on. There were meetings, sure. Every assistant had a scheduled block of ‘Boss Time’, which usually meant that some big secret was about to be revealed to them; that way, they could help the Senior Staff to keep a cover-up going. Josh had pulled Donna into his office and they both sat there, not saying a word. Donna tapped her pen on her notepad and studied Josh quietly, raising one eyebrow.   
  
Things had changed, and she knew what it was.   
  
“You slept with Sam last night, didn’t you?” she accused as soon as Josh began to fidget. He sent a stack of papers flying at her words. She’d be giddier if she didn’t know that she’d be picking up and sorting those papers later. She knew Josh better than she did her own family, and she could definitely tell when he’d had sex. The fact that Sam was wandering around singing selections from  _Pinafore_  was helpful in deducing, of course. “Oh, don’t be such a prude,” she admonished, a pleased grin on her face. She leaned forward, and tried to be serious. “How good is he?”  
  
“Donna!” Josh wailed. “You’re gonna scar me for life.”  
  
“I doubt I’m in time to be the first to do that one,” she muttered to herself, sitting back and crossing her legs.   
  
“I’m uh, I’m supposed to be telling you about the new development within the Senior Staff…”  
  
“You and Sam going at it like rabbits?” Donna asked nonchalantly, jotting the ‘i’ on her notepad with a jaunty little flick of her pen. Josh opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. His eyes widened in horror and Donna grinned. It was  _fun_  getting a reaction out of Josh.  
  
“We do not do anything that resembles rabbit activity!” Josh protested weakly. “But yeah, it’s with me and Sam.”  
  
“Can I say ‘duh’ now?” Donna leaned forward and asked.  
  
“No,” Josh wrinkled his nose.   
  
She pouted. “Why not?”  
  
“It makes you sound twelve,” Josh muttered, giving her a disbelieving look. “And what we really need right now is to turn the West Wing into Wisconsin Middle School, or wherever the hell you went.”  
  
“Eaglecrest Middle School,” Donna replied proudly, sitting up a little straighter.  
  
“Yeah,” Josh breathed out. “No cheerleaders and gossip behind the bleachers, and please for god’s sake, don’t talk to any reporters about this. I mean, none. If a reporter gets a quote and it gets tracked back to my office, C.J. will kill me. It will be very bloody and just extremely messy and you would have to clean it up.”  
  
Donna made a note and raised an eyebrow.   
  
“Anything else?” she asked dutifully.   
  
“Please, Donna, please for the love of  _god_ ,” Josh stressed, looking worn and tired as he leaned forward, “please never think about me, Sam, or anything that rabbits do in the same thought ever again.”  
  
“But it’s fine to think about you, Sam, and sex in the same thought, right?” she asked perkily as she got up and smiled with sheer delight when Josh let out another frustrated groan. “I mean, rabbits and sex. Those are two whole different trains of thought there. Though personally, I like the sex train. It’s fun,” she said. She was already thinking of something else to add to Josh’s pain when there was a knock at the door. Donna turned to find Danny Concannon standing there with a bemused expression.  
  
“Sex train?”  
  
“Danny, you shouldn’t talk about sex in the White House,” Donna replied blankly and effortlessly.  
  
There was a pause as Danny held his ground, staring her down and tapping his pen on his notebook. She raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her other foot as she challenged him wordlessly.   
  
“Ah…” Danny started unsurely, looking Donna over once with trepidation. “…kay.”   
  
She pushed past him and didn’t bother to close the door behind her. She sat down at her desk and leaned ever so slightly towards Josh’s office as she tried to block out all other sound in order to better listen to the conversation.  
  
“Looking for a quote,” Danny was saying.  
  
“Does ‘bite me’ help?”   
  
“Josh, come on. There’s gonna be stories no matter what. This is me trying to let you have some control.”  
  
“Because I like bite me. Bite me has a strong way of saying…”  
  
“I can always talk to Sam.”  
  
“Sam’s not going to tell you anything.”  
  
Silence. Donna typed away listlessly for a moment before the faint sound of voices picked up again. She vaguely noticed that no one else in the bullpen was making any noise, and if they were, it was minimal at best.  
  
“In fact, you might get a rant from Sam about the invasion of privacy! Or he’ll just back me up with the bite me retorts. I hear he’s got the phone number of a place you’ll really be wanting to…”  
  
“Josh…”  
  
“Danny, what part of ‘no’ don’t you understand!? No quote, okay? No background, no sources, or anything else! No. Quote. Go cry on C.J.’s shoulder about it, or whatever the hell it is you do when you don’t get your story. You can make it look like the amateur’s circus hour for all I care! I mean, for god’s sake, Danny, why don’t you just do the inevitable and turn the  _Post_  into a gossip rag and you can even have your own special column that interprets the position of the stars and what they mean for the President. And here in the West Wing, we’ll start calling you the fallen star, you with me? Because the minute you go public with this interview, you know for a fact C.J.’s cutting back your access. And then you can read whatever the hell astrological signs you want, but they’re  _all_  gonna say that you, my friend, you are screwed.”  
  
There was a beat. Donna stopped typing. She could hear her heart pounding away and she closed her eyes, mentally chiding Josh for losing his temper like that. The entire bullpen had gone silent.   
  
Danny spoke a lot quieter now, but with the deadened air, it wasn’t hard to hear. “Josh, there’s going to be an article.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Donna sighed. At least Josh was sounding chastened.   
  
“It’ll be soon.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“So I hope you realize that this was your chance to make it look something more than illicit. I hope you also realize that the same chance is now out the window,” Danny was saying, lingering in the doorway. “And C.J. doesn’t know about this yet. But she sure as hell is going to get approached for a quote.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll be receptive,” Josh snapped sarcastically. “Right after she declares her run for Miss America, but before she becomes a Republican.”  
  
“Thanks, Josh.” Danny rolled his eyes.  
  
“Enjoy the West Wing,” Josh called out. “You’re really not gonna see much of it after you publish that article of yours.”  
  
The minute Danny was out of sight, it was like everyone remembered to breathe. Donna swore she could feel the  _‘whoosh’_  of people as movement reigned eternal over inertia. Donna forced herself to move and she tentatively stepped into Josh’s office to find him glaring – yeah, not staring because staring didn’t involve shooting death glares to those poor squirrels across the way – out the window.   
  
“Josh?” Donna voiced quietly.  
  
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered in return, turning around and slamming his palm down on the desk, sending a few pens scattering. “Not just Danny,” he scoffed. “The entire paper, just…” he exhaled before muttering in a defeated tone, “son of a bitch.”  
  
“Josh,” Donna started. “No one is going to give him quotes. He’s just going to have his research and the confirmation. It’s not going to be that bad. I promise.”  
  
Josh hesitated a moment and frowned before looking up and meeting Donna’s gaze. Donna let her shoulders slump as she sat, leaned forward, and rested her head on one hand, gazing up at Josh. She hated to see him pissed, and not just because it made her life harder.   
  
“Are you still mad?” she ventured hesitantly.  
  
“I’m,” Josh started, seemingly searching the air around them for the answer, “thrown,” he settled for. “I expected this. No, didn’t expect. I  _knew_  this was coming, and I mean, for god’s sake, the President warned me right after…” he swallowed visibly as his voice went higher and got strangled. “Right after Sam and I came out to him.”  
  
Donna remembered that night. Josh looked like he’d survived a couple of wars by the time he came out of the Oval Office, and Sam looked incredibly pale for someone whose lifeblood came from California. Leo had taken them both aside for a pep talk and by the end, C.J. was already lobbing jokes their way about taking out an ad in the paper about declaring success over adversarial conditions in the shape of ovals and sending a nationwide message about the pink triangle supremacy.   
  
“I guess I just didn’t expect it so soon,” Josh quickly added. “Or from Danny,” he muttered. “Son of a bitch,” he repeated listlessly. He swallowed and slowly got to his feet. “I think I should uh…”  
  
“Go see Sam?” Donna put the words in his mouth.  
  
“Yeah, it sounds like I should, huh?” Josh replied, furrowing his brow. He absently grabbed a folder from his desk, heading for the door and leaving Donna alone in his office. She was about to settle into his chair and prop her feet up when Josh came back and tapped his fingers against the doorframe.  
  
“Yes?” she asked pleasantly.   
  
“Leo needs the report on…” he furrowed his brow in what looked like a desperate strain for thoughts, “uh, he needs the one on the five-year projections, and he’s gonna need the one about the European Union and their goal to make us beg for more imports, which…the day that happens is the day that I become Mary Marsh’s guardian angel.”  
  
“I’ll give ‘em to Margaret,” Donna replied with a nod.   
  
“Good,” Josh nodded. “I think I might have to battle Danny away from Sam, so I might just have lunch while I’m at it. You know how it goes. Defending what’s yours is a chivalrous, yet appetite-inducing task of…”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Donna waved him off, rolling her eyes. “Bring me back fries, and don’t come crying to me when Sam yells at you for calling him a damsel in distress.”  
  
“He won’t yell,” Josh retorted. He frowned and faltered, taking a step closer to Donna. “Will he yell?”  
  
“You’re comparing him to maidens of yore with flowing locks who’ve been locked up in dungeons and high towers by an evil lord who wishes to marry…”  
  
“Uh…” Josh interrupted, his frown getting…well,  _frownier_ . “Donna, you going somewhere with this?”  
  
“He’ll yell,” she finished with a sympathetic grin. It was a point in vain, though. There was no stopping Josh when he had a plan in mind, and she already knew she’d be hearing the rumor mill chatting about Princess Sam by the end of the day. She began to collect the reports.   
  
As he left, she heard him mutter, “I’m still the knight in shining armor.”   
  
Rolling her eyes, Donna formed a thin pile of papers and folders in her hands and she was on her way. No sooner did she leave Josh’s office, but she was met with at least three sympathetic glances. Zack came up to her and patted her on the shoulder, grinning wryly.   
  
“Had to happen to someone,” Zack commented blithely with a shrug. Donna furrowed her brow and walked backwards, taking slow steps towards Leo’s office. He just waved at her as she went.   
  
“Yeah, and damn it all that it was me,” she turned and replied over her shoulder, confused to the core. “Okay. That was strange,” she commented to herself and quickened her pace to Leo’s office. She just had to run into Ed and Larry on her way – stupid, stupid luck. It was from working for Josh so long. The man had terrible luck and she swore it was contagious. “Hi guys,” she waved with her free hand.   
  
“We just heard,” Larry said, shaking his head.  
  
“Sorry, Donna,” Ed added, and patted her back before they left. “Oh, and tell the guys they’ve got our sympathies!”  
  
“So you think we should incorporate this into next issue’s comic?” Larry asked Ed as they walked away.  
  
“Well, I always wondered if we had the skills to draw a cartoon version of Josh…”  
  
Donna stopped in her path and covered her mouth in a failed attempt to stop a giggle from passing her lips. She forced herself to march forward. Between her current spot in the hall to Margaret’s desk, she was greeted with at least six sympathetic looks, two ‘I’m sorry’ comments, and one ‘so, can you get video of them?’ She collapsed in the chair beside Margaret’s desk and listened to her type away before Donna slumped forward and rested her head in her hands.  
  
“Bad day already, huh?” Margaret inquired.   
  
“Josh and Sam, Josh and Sam, we’re so sorry,” Donna parroted. She groaned as she passed the folders to Margaret. “I am so tired of the entire staff treating me like I just found out my uncle has cancer. I mean, aren’t we supposed to be happy for them? Why are they sending their sympathies?”   
  
“It could be the end of a political career,” Margaret intoned seriously, filing away the folders. “After all, I think they were both harboring that thought away that maybe one day Sam was going to be President.”  
  
“It could have been Josh,” Donna offered halfheartedly out of loyalty. “Besides!” she protested. “Josh gets to sleep with Sam and vice-versa!” she made a frantic motion with her hands and pouted slightly. “Isn’t that like, cause for celebration and manly high-fives and jealousy?”  
  
“I wonder who could be jealous,” Margaret said mischievously, smiling impishly. Donna raised an eyebrow and immediately, Margaret went back to a strict business demeanor. “It’s just like with Leo. A story came out that could be a deathblow. You get used to it,” she shrugged and went back to her typing.   
  
“The storm has just begun to brew,” Donna confided. Margaret stopped typing and raised an eyebrow. Donna leaned in and said quietly, “Danny’s snooping around for quotes. There’s going to be an article. Full length. More than one page,” she bemoaned. “Which, of course, Josh will read and then we’re all doomed.”  
  
“Oh,” Margaret exhaled. “Donna, I’m…”  
  
“If you say sorry, I’m going to send Josh over to annoy you at least twice before dinner. And he’s ranting about the  _Post_  today,” Donna warned.  
  
“You wouldn’t,” Margaret rejoined, her eyes widening in horror.   
  
“No apologizing,” Donna pointed at Margaret, her words sharp and commanding. “So anyway, the girls want to go out for drinks tonight, and I’d rather drown my sorrows in a pitcher of margaritas than stick around here and listen to the unending opera of ‘Our Sympathies For The Entrancing Assistant’.”  
  
“Entrancing?” Margaret raised an eyebrow.   
  
Donna got up reluctantly. She gave a thoughtful grin as she shrugged. “Why not?”  
  
“Okay. Drinks at ten?”   
  
“Ten o’clock at Murphy’s Bar,” Donna confirmed. “Everyone will be there.”  
  
***  
  
Their ‘everyone’ consisted of Donna, Ginger, Bonnie, Carol, and Margaret. Ed and Larry held special passes – Donna had made them, complete with presidential seal – that they used sometimes and joined the girls for drinks every other week or so. Cathy came out only occasionally. She had a brother at home that needed taking care of, and it heavily restricted her social time.   
  
The first time it had happened had been an accident. Ginger’s date had gone awry, Margaret had been sent on a fool’s errand by Leo, Carol had been tracking down a reporter to get back a press package, and Bonnie had been consoling Donna over some loser from Georgia –Republican, she recalled, and shuddered at the memory. They had all wound up in a booth, drowning their sorrows and bitching about their bosses.   
  
“God, if Josh complains one more time about Lillienfield…”  
  
“I swear to god, Toby’s only purpose in life is to make me miserable…”   
  
“At least you didn’t have Sam sending you up to the Hill to courier his speech.”  
  
“I’d take that over Toby and his damn moods.”  
  
“He sent me four times. Every time I came back, he had a new draft that he wanted brought up there.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yeah. Oh.”  
  
“Lillienfield this, Lillienfield that. I almost told him to go sleep with him if he was that obsessed with the guy!”  
  
“You guys have it good. No reporters to deal with. I’m an assistant, not a bouncer. C.J. wants those reporters away from her, she should hire outside help.”  
  
“Always about Lillienfield lately, and I mean, there’s only so many times you can hear a diatribe about how a person can be that big of a jackass. He even drew me a diagram today. I swear, next time, I’m showing him the alcohol tolerance chart Sam, Ceej and I made.”  
  
“I’ll take reporters any day over Leo on a bad day. Did you see him today? I was afraid he was going to go Carrie on me.”  
  
“Carrie?”  
  
“You know, prom, telekinesis, bad things?”  
  
“No, just…Leo in a prom dress. Scary image. If any of the guys were going to pull off a dress, my money’s on Sam.”  
  
“He does have the legs for it.”  
  
They had stopped talking, looked around, and realized that this was something that needed to happen more than once. They tried to get together once a week, but when it became necessary, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for there to be two or three bitch sessions in a week. It was also, coincidentally, the way that Donna kept herself sane. So, when she showed up at the bar that night to find a pitcher of beer waiting at the table with the others, she very nearly kissed the pitcher itself.   
  
“Long, long, long day,” she groaned as she slid into the booth.   
  
“We figured,” Ginger said sympathetically.   
  
“Have you guys been getting it too?” Donna rested her head in her hands and looked up. “I talked to Cathy at lunch and she said it was pretty bad. You guys?”  
  
”Yeah, we were…I mean, until Bonnie threatened to turn Larry into a eunuch,” Ginger said mildly. “Or was it Ed?” She frowned.   
  
“I think it was both,” Carol replied, to which Bonnie nodded.   
  
“It pretty much died down after that,” Ginger finished. Donna kicked herself mentally for not resorting to physical threats. In retrospect, it seemed like the perfect solution.   
  
“Who ordered the beer?” Donna asked as she poured herself a glass and didn’t hesitate to take a long sip. Ginger raised her hand slightly, and Donna reached across the table, resting one hand on Ginger’s forearm. “I owe you my life. Do you want my firstborn? I mean, provided my mother doesn’t have some unholy contract already claiming my children, then my firstborn is _yours_ .”  
  
“I think that they go through a ritual involving Toby, Josh, a lot of arguing, and robes,” Margaret offered. “It’s in our contracts somewhere.”  
  
“Also known as maternity leave,” Carol added.   
  
“Okay, new subject!” Bonnie announced loudly and was opening her mouth to speak when Ed ran over. Bonnie raised an eyebrow while Ed struggled to catch his breath. “Where’s your better half?”  
  
“How come he’s the better half?” Ed asked indignantly. “Listen, I just heard from a reporter…”  
  
“Who?” Donna interjected.  
  
“It doesn’t matter who,” Ed replied quickly. “All right, it matters some.  _Daily Mirror_ .”  
  
“Tabloid?” Ginger asked dubiously. Ed nodded his assent. “Then we’re fine. They usually only run those pieces about the President being possessed by aliens. Although, I liked the piece they had about there being buried gold under the Roosevelt room. But it’s mostly the alien thing.”  
  
“That’d be cool,” Margaret murmured.   
  
“Guess who it’s about,” Ed added, grinning wickedly. It seemed to be directed straight at Donna. She groaned mentally and chanted to herself,  _why, God, why? I was a good child. I helped my parents out, I never sinned that badly, and I put up with Josh._ “Everyone’s favourite odd couple. It’s supposed to go national in like, two days.”  
  
“And it’s about?” Carol asked.  
  
Ed shrugged.  
  
“He was vague,” he said. “Although…” he began thoughtfully. “There was some talk about speculation into the bedroom. You think he means…”  
  
“ _The Daily Mirror_  is going to speculate on Josh and Sam’s sex life?” Margaret interrupted with wonder. Everyone began to exchange glances while Donna began to drown herself in a large mug of beer. “We need to get a copy…”  
  
“And get it to C.J…”  
  
“No, not her. Toby!”  
  
“He’ll love it!”  
  
Donna drifted away into her own private hell to the taste of bitter ale.  _Great_ , she thought to herself.  _More fun with the national news._  
  
*  
The Day of Boss Time was followed by two days of normalcy before The Day of Indignation began. Donna had been finishing up her breakfast – hearty vanilla yogurt that was supposed to curb a lot more cravings than it ever really did. She kept meaning to send a letter to the company and demand a coupon, or maybe a lifetime of free yogurt – when she heard the shout pierce the bullpen.   
  
“And how exactly do people just look and go, ‘he’s a sub!’”   
  
The shout came from Josh’s office and froze the entire bullpen. Donna forced a bright smile on her face and snatched a memo.  
  
“Well…” she perkily said as she walked into the office and closed the door gently behind her. Sam was pouting slightly in the corner, leaning on the table opposite Josh’s desk with a newspaper clutched tightly in his grasp. From the look on his face, it looked like someone had popped his bubble and told him that Santa didn’t exist. Sam was in the middle of muttering something when Donna walked in.  
  
“…is it that they look and know?” Sam wondered with that wounded look on his face. “I mean, come on…” he tossed the paper on the table, and Donna tilted her head to look at it.  
  
“Are you talking about a tabloid?” she wondered aloud, handing Josh the memo. When she looked up, Josh was turning very pale. She shrugged. “Oh, and you guys might want to keep your voices down because I think just about everyone but the Oval Office heard that one.” She paused in thought. “Although, it really does depend on if the doors to the Oval Office were open and whether sound were traveling…”  
  
“You heard me?” Sam broke in weakly.  
  
She grinned. “So, you’re submissive?”  
  
“I am not!” he defensively reacted.  
  
Donna pointed from him to Josh, loving the moment more than she did her daily indulgence in sugar around dinnertime. “Does that mean he is?”  
  
“Donna!” Josh exploded. “What have I said about you not discussing my sex life? And it’s just a tabloid, Sam. It’s not real journalism. We knew there would be stories like this floating around.”  
  
“They say I’m submissive,” Sam muttered, crossing his arms and glaring at no one in particular.   
  
Donna pointed at Sam with her pen. “Will he tell me about the story?”  
  
“Read it in the  _Mirror_  if you’re so desperate,” Josh snapped back. Donna leaned over to pick up the magazine but was stopped by Sam – who was actually pretty graceful and quick on his feet when the situation was desperate enough to call for it. It was Donna’s turn to pout. Sam clutched the paper in his hands.   
  
“You can’t just tease a girl like that,” Donna whined slightly, crossing her arms. “After all, I work for you!” she pointed to Josh. “And I thought you were my friend!” she gestured to Sam. She stood there under Josh’s heavy glare for about a minute before rolling her eyes and giving a shrug of defeat. “Fine,” she muttered under her breath and left the office.   
  
“Bonnie!” she yelled as she headed for Communications. “Have you got a copy of the  _Mirror_?”  
  
Bonnie replied almost immediately in a shout over the din of the West Wing.   
  
“Toby’s borrowing it! And Ginger made popcorn!”  
  
“Oh god,” she heard Sam mutter. It wasn’t two seconds later before he was walking as fast as he could past Donna and heading for the Communications bullpen. From the sounds of things, Toby was telling everyone to settle down or else they wouldn’t hear the part about Josh’s ‘kinky delights’. Donna could only stand back and grin triumphantly. She waited about two more minutes before she heard Josh’s voice drift out.  
  
“Donna! You can come read it now!”  
  
Donna turned slightly to yell back. “It’s okay! I’m going to Toby’s group read!”  
  
She began to walk towards the Communications bullpen and within seconds, Josh was at her elbow, guiding her along quicker. She grinned to herself and hustled under his pace. She leaned over as they hurried through the lobby.  
  
“You only get to stay if you stop Sam from pitching a fit,” she confided. “Although, I’m sure if the tabloid is right…”  
  
“Donna, remember how I gave you Saturday off?”  
  
“I’m sure the tabloid is none of my business, and I only enjoy the soothing and dulcet tones of Toby’s voice and not so much the text that he reads,” she replied automatically.   
  
“Good answer,” Josh remarked.  
  
“Kinky, Josh?” she grinned.  
  
“Saturday,” Josh warned.  
  
“Shutting up,” Donna quickly added, doing a quick mime of ‘zipped lips’.  
  
***  
  
Despite the fun the tabloid story had wound up being, Donna began arriving to work with an uncomfortable feeling of trepidation welcoming her every time she sat down at her desk to start the day. It was hard to completely forget that Danny’s article was somewhere and could appear at any day – she’d heard rumors that it might appear anytime during that week, and C.J. had already expressed surprise at it not showing up in the paper yesterday – not to mention that the commerce report was working around the building again.  
  
She didn’t understand the report; C.J. barely understood it. The worst part though was that Josh really,  _really_  didn’t understand the commerce report. He pretended to, though, and always tried to flaunt his feigned knowledge.  
  
This time around though, she was finding it extremely interesting to go through the commerce report. She wandered into his office, reading a piece of paper and not quite looking up.   
  
“Josh, did you know that there was a deficit in Canada of forty-two billion dollars in 1994, but that in 1998, they had a three point four billion dollar surplus? Why can’t we do that?” Donna asked in awe, her eyes fixated on the paper. She looked up to see Josh looking at her dubiously. “I mean, really!”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll tell the President right away that we ought to grovel for financing tips from the Canadians,” Josh mocked and then shrugged as he reclined in his chair. He waved his hand carelessly in the air. “They have…you know, systems of doing that. Why do you care?”  
  
Donna placed a memo on his desk. “You’ve got the state dinner for the Canadian Prime Minister and Ambassador coming up. Leo wants you to read up and get some handy conversation ready. Plus, I figured what with the commerce report, it’d be a fun comparison and all.”  
  
“That only works if you know about our commerce report,” Josh muttered under his breath, not meeting Donna’s eyes. She laughed mentally and reminded herself to playback this conversation the next time he tossed out some figures at the junior staff.   
  
“I thought you did,” Donna teased with a smirk. He looked up and caught her eyes.   
  
“Well, you know, I assumed I did too. Then, Sam goes and says osmosis from him doesn’t count,” Josh offered with an amused smile. He scoffed as he propped his feet up on his desk. “Which, I think he’s lying.”   
  
“Speaking of Sam,” Donna started.  
  
“Do we need to go see him?” Josh perked up, sitting up straight.   
  
“Well,  _we_  need to do nothing of the sort. I, however, have to over there and grab notes from him so you can help put together the press release for C.J. to give tomorrow morning,” Donna smirked, turning to head towards Communications. She figured it would take about two minutes before Josh decided that he could do that job just fine and join her.   
  
As she was turning the corner, she saw Sam and Bonnie coming from the Roosevelt room, and Sam looked downright irritated by something. He was taking folders by the second that Bonnie was handing over and studying them intently, occasionally signing his name to them and handing them back.   
  
“It was just Congressman Whaley. I don't need to be rescued!” he muttered to himself. Donna perched herself on Cathy’s desk and watched them. Cathy handed her some notes, and Donna traded a few papers from her sheath.  
  
“That's not what Josh says, Your Royal Highness, Ma'am,” Bonnie offered and curtsied for Sam before hustling to sit at her desk and file a few folders away. Sam stopped in his tracks and gave a tiny nod.   
  
“Yeah, I'm gonna kill him,” he announced to the bullpen.   
  
Then, to Donna’s sheer surprise, the reply to that came from not Ginger, Bonnie, Cathy or any of the other junior staffers. She watched in surprise as Sam began to walk to his office, only to be stopped again by  _Toby_  of all people.   
  
“That doesn't seem like regal behavior,” he commented dryly. Donna got off the desk, stood up straight, and smoothed her skirt while noting the look of pure delight on Ginger’s face that she was trying – very badly – to conceal. Toby was actually smirking. Donna knew that the staff could say whatever they wanted about Josh and Sam and their newfound togetherness. They were enjoying the hell out of it.   
  
Sam groaned, stopping in his tracks once again and pleaded with Toby, “Oh god, not you too.” Donna sidled to the side and noticed that Josh had showed up in the crowd. He pressed a finger to his lips and lightly pressed one hand on Donna’s back as they stood near the outer area of the bullpen and watched.  
  
“Did C.J. steal your tiara?” Toby queried as innocently as he could.  
  
“This is payback,” Sam determined, turning quickly and searching all the faces in the bullpen for an answer. Finally, he fell back to looking at Toby, “isn't it?”  
  
“Yes,” Toby nodded in assent.   
  
“For?”  
  
“There are many things,” Toby said. “Pick one.”  
  
Josh gave Donna a warm pat on the back before surging through the crowd to Sam’s side. Toby shoved his hands in his pockets and everyone watched as Sam took a step back and pointed a finger at Josh cautiously. Josh raised his eyebrows and gave a cocky grin.   
  
“Sam, I hear…”  
  
“Josh?” Sam interrupted, not moving. When Josh tried to get closer to him, he took a step back in some strange dance of evasion. “If the words 'highness' or 'princess' even begin to pass through your lips, I promise that you'll forget everything you know about mind-blowing regular sex.”  
  
The crowd in the bullpen dispersed almost immediately once the word ‘sex’ had passed through Sam’s lips. Toby turned and went back into his office, and the assistants went back to work. Donna stood above Ginger’s desk and they watched the scene together.   
  
Josh took a step forward, which Sam didn’t fight – although, Donna observed, it wasn’t exactly like he could fight it, what with his back pressed against the window to his office. Josh leaned in.   
  
“You don’t fight fair,” he complained.  
  
“Imagine that,” Sam replied with a cocky tilt of his head – which really contradicted that cowering position he had taken on, what with Josh pushing ever so slightly closer. Josh rolled his eyes, grabbed the papers in Sam’s hand and began to walk towards Ginger’s desk. Donna stood up to anticipate a walk-and-talk, but Josh paused in his steps and turned slightly. He shot Sam a look – that’s the charmer, baby – and a thoughtful expression settled on his face.  
  
“Mind-blowing?”  
  
“Did you want to argue that?” Sam offered, leaning casually against the wall between his office and Toby’s. He raised an eyebrow. Josh seemed to consider this for a moment.   
  
“No, just...seem pretty sure of yourself,” Josh replied, his grin growing wider.  
  
“To be fair,” Sam started, taking a step forward and presented his hands in what Donna thought was a very diplomatic-looking position, “you  _do_  have a hand in it.”  
  
“In that case, mind-blowing it is,” Josh agreed vehemently, turning and walking with Donna back to his office. He looked over to her and leaned in. “Forget you heard that conversation. Remember…”  
  
“You, Sam, and sex,” Donna rolled her eyes. “Bad subjects to mix and serve at a party.”  
  
Donna got back to her desk and lost herself in research about the Canadian political system. By noon, she was ready to forget about Danny’s article, the tabloid and all the other op-ed pieces that had been going around. Josh was standing above her at her desk, checking over a transcription that Donna had been typing when the worst thing possible could have happened. Hurricane Toby came storming down the halls, clutching a newspaper in his hands and hitting it hard against his thigh. Donna looked up in worry as Toby slowed to a stop in the bullpen.  
  
“This article…” he began.  
  
“Is that in the paper today? Is this Danny’s?” Donna asked, her eyes widening as she grasped the paper. She read it quickly, horror creeping over her as she read the words.  _Danny’s_  words.  
  
“It’s advanced. We just got it over lunch,” Toby grunted with distaste. He met Donna’s gaze and ducked his head while she sat there in abject terror at the words Danny had written. She couldn’t look at Josh, the last possible thing she could do right now was look at Josh with these words in her head. “Not only is it tawdry...” Toby was content to keep railing on, which Donna was eternally grateful for.  
  
“Donna, quick, mental note. Toby said tawdry,” Josh jumped in, saving Donna from having to reply.  
  
Toby raised his voice, snatching the paper back from Donna and waving it around in the air. “Not only is it tawdry, but it's glorifying your position.”  
  
Donna watched Josh’s reaction as he slowly frowned. “Why, what's it say?”  
  
Toby met Donna’s gaze, and she tore her eyes away to look at Josh, finding her voice and making sure it was strong enough not to be weak and falter in the middle of a sentence. “You haven't read it yet,” she stated. Of course he hadn’t read it. If Josh had, there would have been fireworks and possible killings.   
  
“I've been busy, Donna. You know, running the country, avoiding war, scavenging the finest lunch foods,” Josh replied in his patented ‘I-am-talking-to-a-toddler’ voice. Donna bit back a retort and glanced at the paper in Toby’s hand. If Josh read that, the wind would definitely get knocked out of his sails.  
  
They remained silent for a good minute that was filled with awkwardness before Josh started to fidget.  
  
“How is it?” he asked quietly.  
  
Toby was hesitant in his reply. “It's pretty bad, Josh.” Donna gave a small snort, just barely audible. That was the understatement of the year. Toby caught her eyes and raised one eyebrow, to which Donna ducked her gaze down immediately.  
  
“For who?” Josh replied – ah yes, Josh: the eternal political strategist, never one to forget about the ramifications.   
  
Donna wisely decided to back out of the conversation. She pushed away from her desk and busied herself around the coffee maker, pouring a cup of coffee for Josh first, and then one for herself. It was only after she’d poured in the two milks that she realized she had to knock off this habit of only giving Josh coffee when things were bad.  
  
“It's bad for you,” Toby said quietly. He paused, and Donna found herself staring at Toby, waiting for more. “It's worse for Sam.”  
  
Toby offered the newspaper out to Josh. It took a moment for Josh to take the newspaper out of Toby’s hands, and cast a nervous look askance to Donna. She bit her lip and held out a cup of coffee for him. He took hesitant steps towards the office.  
  
“Okay, uh, I'm going to read it,” he announced, lingering in his doorway.   
  
“So, entering your office would be on pain of death, right?” Donna ventured hesitantly.   
  
“Or severe maiming,” he nodded. “Depends how bad it is.”  
  
With that, he shut the door behind him. Donna quickly sat down at her desk, looking up at Toby as she clutched her coffee cup tightly. He didn’t seem to be moving anywhere, and every once in a while, he met her gaze before having to pull his eyes away. They both understood that things were about to get a hell of a lot worse.   
  
“You read it,” he said calmly. “Are we in for disaster?”  
  
Donna nodded swiftly, casting a worried glance at Josh’s door. “Well, for one thing,” she started apprehensively, settling for the small picture, “he's going to take the head off of anyone who goes in there.”  
  
Toby smirked, a dismal sound that sounded like a choked laugh coming from his throat. He scratched the side of his face. “You know, Al Kiefer is around.”  
  
Donna rolled her eyes. “Ha ha,” she dryly replied.   
  
“Who said I was joking?” Toby replied in a monotone before turning and making his way back across the building.  
  
By the time night rolled around, Josh still hadn’t emerged from the office. Donna sighed as she put her overcoat on and checked her watch. Quarter to ten. Drinks were scheduled for ten o’clock sharp. She brushed her hair out from under the collar of the wool coat and knocked on Josh’s door.  
  
“I’m leaving,” she said, not waiting for a response and hurrying away before he could open the door and tell her any different. She hurried to Communications, dodging interns and assistants as she went. She arrived to see Ginger and Bonnie getting ready and Cathy talking to Sam at her desk.   
  
She took hesitant steps over and tapped Sam’s shoulder lightly. He turned and gave her a bright smile.  
  
“Hey Donna,” he greeted her.  
  
“Sam,” Donna nodded in response. “Did you…um, I don’t…did Toby show you…”  
  
“The article?” Sam interrupted, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I saw it. Danny’s work is slipping lately.”  
  
“You’re okay,” Donna stated in confusion, furrowing her brow.   
  
“We knew there’d be articles like that,” Sam replied lightly. He gave her a smile – it looked forced, which only relieved Donna. Sam was still only human. “Life goes on, and unfortunately, so does the commerce report. I’m stuck here working on the damn thing. It’s looking like a late night.”  
  
“Does Josh know?” Donna asked.  
  
Sam rifled through his papers, catching Donna’s gaze for a split second before returning his gaze to the figures. Donna took a step closer to Sam and rested a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently to get his attention. When he looked up again, Donna raised her eyebrows expectantly.  
  
“Sam, have you talked to Josh?”  
  
“He knows I’m working on this,” he replied, his words heavy and faint. He snapped the file shut, gave another forced smile, and disappeared into his office. He closed the door behind him and shutting the blinds.   
  
Donna groaned and turned away, holding out her hands.  
  
“Take me away,” she ordered. Bonnie promptly took hold of one of her hands and began to drag her out of the West Wing. It wasn’t until she was breathing fresh air that Donna began to feel better about the day.  
  
***  
  
Donna liked pink drinks. Something about them made her feel extra girly and when it came time to dish gossip in a booth at the back of a bar, she enjoyed nothing more than swirling the swizzle stick around in her strawberry daiquiri as she listened to the assorted assistants go on about the latest news. Bonnie and Ginger were talking privately about something that had crawled up Toby’s ass, and Carol was content to let Margaret dominate the conversation.   
  
“I told him that feng shui is hard to ignore,” she was going on and Donna kept her eyes on the bar, watching people drift from seats. She’d had a few beers to drink and this was her first pink drink of the night. It was all starting to go to her head. “And he just gave me that look…”  
  
“The Leo look,” Donna interrupted before returning to staring at the bar.   
  
“Well, he kept being stubborn about it so I snuck in later and rearranged a few plants, and maybe moved a picture or two,” Margaret added devilishly.  
  
“I bet you it takes a week for him to even notice,” Carol announced with delight.   
  
Something at the bar caught Donna’s attention and she squinted. When that didn’t help any, she nudged Bonnie over and over again until Donna got her attention. Bonnie snapped around, raising an eyebrow and turned her gaze to the bar when Donna pointed to a haggard figure in a black overcoat, slumped over the bar and accepting a drink from the bartender.  
  
“Wasn’t Sam working on the yearly figures for the commerce report?” Donna asked quietly. The entire table fell to silence as every pair of eyes flew to the bar to inspect the slumped coat of depression.  
  
“That’s Sam,” Ginger stated, pointing to the bar. Her eyes widened.   
  
“I’ll say,” Margaret agreed.  
  
“Wouldn’t the commerce report push you to drinking?” Bonnie scoffed, taking a long sip of her beer.   
  
“But,” Donna closed her eyes tightly, pressing on. She had a point somewhere. She knew she did. She opened her eyes and tapped on the table with her index finger rapidly, struggling to find the words she needed. “But he was supposed to be at the office! He told you…he said to all of us, and to C.J. and Toby and Leo and, he said to all of us and he said to  _Josh_  that he was spending a late night working on the commerce report!”  
  
She beamed triumphantly, raising her finger into the air. She’d found her point. Her face fell as she realized what she just said. She clasped to Bonnie’s sleeve and tried hard not to look as distressed as she felt.   
  
“Guys,” she whispered. They all huddled in. “Why did Sam lie?”  
  
They all looked to the bar again and watched as Sam turned to the side, a lock of hair falling over his face. He looked dejected, beat, and he looked like someone had run over his puppy. Donna frowned, trying to remember what it was Josh…no, not Josh. Josh had been in his office since noon. Earlier in the day, there was the research, and teasing Sam, and Toby was there, and Josh had gone off to read the…  
  
Donna groaned.  
  
“What?” Carol jumped on her sound. “What is it?”  
  
“Danny’s article is going national tomorrow,” Donna murmured. She shifted in her seat, making listless attempts to grab her coat. She needed to talk to Sam. Before she could get up though, someone joined Sam at the bar, standing behind him and resting one hand on his shoulder.   
  
It was Josh.  
  
Because it was Josh, it was very strange then for the table of assistants to watch as Sam shrugged the hand off his shoulder – almost very close to violently – and storm off, dropping a bill on the bar and heading straight for the door.   
  
“What rabbit hole did I fall into this week?” Bonnie moaned in frustration, ordering another beer from the passing waiter. Donna found her voice at the last minute and placed an order for something a little bit stronger, just as Josh’s eyes searched the bar and fell on their table. It was seconds before he was standing in front of them.  
  
“Is this a pity party?” he whined quietly. “If it is, I want in. I can be pitiful.”   
  
Donna moved over in the booth, making room for him to sit on the end. She gave him a sympathetic smile and when the waiter came over with her drink, she didn’t hesitate to slide it in front of Josh. He sighed heavily and quietly. It was the only sound because everyone else had gone quiet.  
  
“You guys can, uh…talk,” Josh piped up. “You know, it can be off the record, or whatever. I’ll pretend I never heard any of it.”  
  
There was another beat of silence before they started talking again.  
  
“You’ll never guess what Toby brought into the office the other day…” Bonnie started.  
  
“Was it the little dancing monkey?” Margaret asked mischievously.   
  
“Yeah! With the little hat and the bells!” Ginger replied enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up.   
  
“I hear he named it Sam…” Margaret added, the smirk on her face growing.   
  
“He did. It does a little dance if you set it on the floor. And it has cymbals that crash for like, ever if you just let them…” Ginger said with an equally wide grin, twirling her little paper umbrella and licking her drink off the straw. Donna felt herself drifting from the conversation, trapped watching Josh’s face fall from keen disinterest into marked rejection.   
  
“Bet Sam isn’t happy about that,” Carol giggled.   
  
“He calls it Toby’s monkey,” Bonnie replied with a smirk. “The first time he did, the President was passing by.”  
  
“Oh god,” Carol and Margaret voiced in horrified tandem.   
  
She fully drifted away from the conversation when she felt Josh’s hand lightly rest on her elbow. She turned her full attention to him and listened intently as he leaned in and whispered that he needed a lot more to drink somewhere else. She gave him a light push and got up, grasping her coat.  
  
“Guys, I’m taking Sir Pity here home,” she announced. “I’ll pay you back for the tab I owe.”  
  
“Forget about it,” Carol waved her hand. “I’ll cover it.”  
  
“I owe you,” Donna swore, putting one hand on Josh’s back and lightly pushing him out of the bar. Once they hit the fresh air, Josh stood under the streetlight, hands in his pockets and head tilted back to the sky. Donna watched him for a moment in silence, waiting for his lead.  
  
“Sam’s pissed,” he offered, still looking up at the stars.  
  
“He seemed fine,” Donna said. “I thought he was fine.”  
  
“I mean, I get that he’s upset. He hates his name in the news for utter bullshit like this,” Josh kept talking. “But this time, I think…I think this is different. He won’t tell me what’s going on though. I tried to talk to him at the office, and he stormed out, saying he needed a drink,” he continued, lowering his head and looking straight at Donna – his gaze piercing straight through her. “Then I got here, and…well, you saw the rest.”  
  
“Josh.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Come on, I’ve got vodka at my place,” Donna offered quietly.   
  
“I’ll lead the way,” Josh commanded, hailing a cab.   
  
*  
Donna had been awake for about fifteen minutes, making coffee and preparing a light breakfast for herself before realizing that she wasn’t exactly alone. She thanked God for her ability to handle alcohol and for the hangover-free morning she had been blessed with. She was sipping her coffee when she heard the first strains of life come from the couch and from the other person who, she knew, was not so hangover-free and was probably cursing God right about now.  
  
Josh groaned and slowly surfaced from off the couch. His hair stuck up in about seven different ways, and it looked like he was having some trouble opening his eyes. Donna relaxed in her chair as he got up and very slowly made his way to the table and the waiting cup of coffee. He sank into the opposite chair and promptly let his forehead connect with the table.  
  
Then, in a credit to his expertise to complain, he managed to mix human speech with an audible, very painful groan. “What happened?”  
  
He looked up – and he looked damn pitiful – and met Donna’s gaze. She nodded once, and replied as evenly as she could. “You and I got hitched in a shotgun wedding and then had a night of wild, kinky sex,” she confided, leaning across the table.  
  
Josh took a moment to pause, and Donna did  _not_  miss the way he very cautiously checked his ring finger. “…kay.”  
  
 _Fulbright scholar, my ass,_  Donna snorted mentally. “You got drunk and passed out,” she said evenly, raising an eyebrow. He took the warm cup of coffee and wrapped his hands around it, taking slight sips.   
  
“Was that all?” Josh asked hopefully.  
  
Donna shook her head sympathetically. “You lectured the poor cats about domestic economic policy.”   
  
“I hope they learned their lesson,” Josh said with a sneer. Donna watched as Josh flinched when Bon-Bon – her roommates’ Calico – jumped up on the counter and purred loudly.  
  
Donna bit back her laughter. “Yeah, I'm sure they earned character.”  
  
Josh hesitated and in the interim, Donna enjoyed a half-cup of her coffee. She did brew a damn fine pot of coffee if she said so herself. “So...” Josh’s voice broke into her thoughts, “not married?”  
  
Donna put her ego in check when she saw the terror flicker over his face. Oh, but she could be mean about this.   
  
“No.”  
  
Damn farm-girl honesty.   
  
“Thank god...” Josh exhaled, and replied all-too-quickly.  
  
Donna raised an eyebrow and Josh’s eyes went wide as he seemingly caught his gaffe. He choked on his sip of coffee and cleared his throat, shaking his head and then wincing heavily, clutching his forehead with one hand and mouthing, ‘ow’.   
  
“Uh,” he swallowed, meeting her gaze, “not that it wouldn't be a happy and satisfying marriage.”  
  
“Way to cover your ass, Joshua,” Donna commended him, finishing her cup of coffee and putting it away. She immediately went to the bathroom to grab a couple of Tylenols and brought back a glass of water as his voice drifted through the halls of her apartment. Her roommate worked night shifts and was never around when Donna woke up for her insanely early start-hour.  
  
“I'm not a savvy political operative for nothing,” Josh called out and looked at Donna like she was water in the desert when she emerged bearing pain medication. “Do you want a raise, because I think maybe I could swing one in exchange for this,” he said, quickly grabbing the pills and swallowing them.   
  
“I do like raises,” Donna beamed, checking her watch. Five-thirty. Another thirty minutes before they had to be at the office. She wondered if thirty minutes was enough to make Josh appear human again, for the sake of…well, someone else. Her sake had already been sacrificed the moment Josh indulged in two shots of vodka the night before. “Got anything else to offer while you’re weakened?”  
  
“I am not…”  
  
“Because I do know the words to certain boy band songs,” Donna cut in loudly and watched as Josh reacted painfully. He clutched at his head and actually keened audibly. “It’s okay, I’m not that evil.”  
  
“Says you,” Josh muttered under his breath.  
  
“I want it that way,” Donna sang loudly, off-key and straight into Josh’s ear. He clapped his hands over his head and got up quickly, moving immediately to the bathroom. Donna heard the audible click of the lock. “Told you so,” she airily called through the door.   
  
“Queen of darkness,” Josh spat at her from the other side of the door.   
  
“We have work, so, cast you know…whatever warding spells quickly so we’re there on time,” she yelled out before locking her bedroom door and searching for a suitable pant-suit for the day, making a mental note to take a Tylenol with her for the inevitable mid-day headache.  
  
***  
  
Josh’s headache didn’t subside until about six that night.  
  
In fact, it raged so badly that he gave Donna a feeling as to how much pain was in his own head by shouting at her all day and barking orders. He would have had some severe comeuppance going his way if she didn’t feel so damn bad for the guy.  
  
Her feeling sorry for him getting the brush-off from Sam was the  _only_  reason she was staying as late as she was. Donna stood and wiped away the tiny trickles of sweat that were beading on her brow. Sympathy or no sympathy, there was no way in hell she was letting Josh convince her to do some light ‘legwork’ again. His definition of light was a heavy box of papers that had to be at least twenty pounds. She left it in Josh’s doorway when she heard someone clear their throat.   
  
“Donnatella Moss,” a warm greeting came from behind her. Donna turned around to see Mrs. Abbey Bartlet in the flesh and blood standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the file cabinets across from Donna’s desk. Donna swallowed hard, her posture straightening and her eyes going wide.  
  
She nodded. “Good evening, ma’am,” she said politely.   
  
“I take it there have been fireworks down here?” Mrs. Bartlet leaned against Zack’s desk – everyone else had long gone home, but Donna was stuck working until Josh didn’t need reports on figures every thirty minutes. It was nearly one thirty in the morning, she groaned mentally. “After all, they were quite magnificent in the residence.”  
  
“It’s been eventful,” Donna laughed quietly, and nodded in agreement. She folded her hands behind her back. “Was there something you…”  
  
“I’m taking a walk,” the First Lady interrupted and filled Donna in. “It’s like a battlefield in the Residence what with Leo and Jed going over that damned article like it was the Zapruder film.”   
  
And all at once, Donna realized that there were consequences for more than just Josh, Sam, and the rest of the assistants. The President was likely to be hit hard with this, not to mention C.J. in the press room, and…  
  
Oh, god, Donna realized. This was big.   
  
“They’re not happy?” Donna cleared her throat and asked.  
  
“Well,” Mrs. Bartlet drew out that one word for at least three seconds. “Jed was particularly displeased about the comment that he was trapped between Scylla and Charybdis.”  
  
Donna remembered reading that. She didn’t exactly catch Danny’s drift on that particular one, but she’d read it over. “Uh, ma'am?”  
  
She seemed to pick up on Donna’s predicament and gave a generous smile, leaning forward and confiding, “It's Danny's pretentious way of saying, 'caught between a rock and a hard place.' Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have cared either if Jed hadn’t started ranting about it. Going on about how no reporter is about to tell him when he’s stuck. Honestly, these men…” she trailed off.   
  
“It’s pretty bad here,” Donna confessed quietly. “Josh went to the mess to grab coffee, but he’s been…it’s been,” she sighed. “It’s been bad.”   
  
“It will get better,” she reassured Donna, standing up and smoothing her skirt. “Well, I best be getting back to the room. Leo threatened to send out a search party if I wasn’t back in thirty minutes. I think they’re afraid I might leak a story to some stray reporter.”  
  
“Thank you, ma’am,” Donna nodded and straightened her posture once more as she watched Mrs. Bartlet leave. She checked her watch. It was coming up on two o’clock in the morning and she still had a few press releases that Josh wanted C.J. to have. Casting one last glance at Josh’s door, she went down the hall.   
  
She knocked on C.J.’s door and heard, “come in!” after a few seconds. She pushed the door open to find C.J. on her cycle machine, her face glowing. Donna displayed the press releases, and C.J. nodded towards her desk, taking her feet off the pedals and wiping her forehead with a towel. Donna placed them down on the desk and leaned against it to talk to C.J.  
  
“Busy night?” Donna raised an eyebrow.  
  
“It was either this, or I might have punched Danny,” C.J. explained, slouching forward on the handlebars. Donna snorted. “Oh, it was a possibility. Josh was trying to stop me, but I think he just wanted to do it himself.”  
  
“They’re taking this badly,” Donna commented. “I mean, Sam and Josh.”   
  
“They're living and dying by the news cycle,” C.J. gently said. “I'll tell you what though...I  _am_  going to show Danny Concannon a whole new meaning of pain. I mean, seriously. He dropped by to tell me he was doing this, but did you see the article?”  
  
“I did.”  
  
“It’s not as if Josh scorned him or anything,” C.J. rolled her eyes, letting loose a strained giggle. “Although, that’s a fun scenario all its own.”   
  
“I really didn’t apply to live in a soap opera when I showed up to work for Josh,” Donna said, “because I want to be one of those millionaire heiresses if this is going to be a soap. Possibly with an evil twin.”  
  
“It’ll pass,” C.J. said.  
  
“But…” Donna began to protest.  
  
“Leo dropped by about fifteen minutes ago,” C.J. cut in. “He’s got an idea that ought to at least show the public that Josh and Sam are brilliant at what they do, not to mention the right guys for the job.”  
  
“How are we doing that?”  
  
“In-depth profiles,” C.J. answered. “And Danny’s going to do it.”  
  
“Does Danny know he’s doing this yet?” Donna asked, the corner of her lips quirking upwards in an amused smile. C.J. shared a conspiratorial grin with her quickly before shaking her head. Donna made a sound of acknowledgment. “Ah, but he is going to do it.”  
  
“If he values his life,” C.J. muttered. “And his job, of course,” she waved her hand idly.   
  
Donna laughed appreciatively, checking her watch and groaning loudly, letting her head fall back. She righted herself and stood up, straightening her clothes. C.J. gave her a sympathetic look.  
  
“You’re the last assistant here, you know,” C.J. commented. “You go too far for that man, sometimes.”  
  
“This very morning, I was promised a raise,” Donna said, shaking her head. “I’m going home anyway. Anything that’s left, I can do in the…” she sighed as she let her shoulders sag, “four hours when I get back in.” She exhaled slowly, waving goodbye and closing the door behind her before she began the walk across the hall back to Josh’s office to give her goodbye.   
  
Donna skidded to a stop as she heard the shouting in Josh’s office. The door wasn’t closed. It was kept open by the box of papers that she had been meaning to move. That box was keeping the door from shutting. Through the slit, she saw Josh with both hands braced against his desk behind him. Sam was pacing back and forth.  
  
“Sam, it’s not like I gave him a quote,” Josh was saying tiredly.   
  
“He still wrote it!” Sam snapped. “A career move, Josh? A  _career_  move?”   
  
“Sam…” Josh tried again, waving one hand listlessly. “Come on, it’s not like that. We both know it. It…this works for us.”  
  
“Oh, does it work for you?” Sam stopped moving. He stood somewhere out of Donna’s sight. She felt frozen to the floor, her eyes widened and her mouth hanging open. Some part of her was telling her to pick up and run. It was two A.M. and this was none of her business.   
  
“Yes, Sam. This is good for me!”  
  
“Are you sure I’m not just convenient? Some torrid affair that you get off on? Am I just supposed to tide the time between your attraction to Joey and your inevitable hitting on Donna?”  
  
Silence.  
  
Donna wanted – no, not want anymore. She desperately needed to get out of there right the hell now – to go home, pretend she’d never heard a word of that and come in the next morning to a state of blissful ignorance.  
  
Josh’s response was so quiet, Donna barely heard. “Sam…”  
  
“I…I said that,” Sam replied with confusion.   
  
“Yeah, Sam,” Josh stated in his best ‘this-is-what’s-obvious’ voice. Donna was sure he only used that on Congressmen. “I’m really thinking you need to take that back.”  
  
Silence again.  
  
“I don’t think I can,” he murmured. Donna forced herself to sit at her desk and at least look busy typing. She strained to hear, and watched in horror as the door opened slightly, Sam’s hand grasping the doorknob so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “I…I don’t even know what you and Donna have between you two and…I…”  
  
Sam was lingering half in the office, half in the hall.   
  
“Career move, Josh,” he added softly. “I got torn to pieces by that article.”  
  
“It wasn’t exactly daisies and puppies for me, you know,” Josh snapped back bitterly, and Donna closed her eyes at the vitriol in his voice.   
  
“Josh, it assumes the worst of me.  _Danny_  speaks the worst of me. You’re mildly reprimanded, like you got caught whispering in class and got a ruler to the wrist. I got the suspension,” Sam added miserably, turning and walking out of the office before Josh could respond. Donna searched his face to see whether he cared that she had heard any of it, but Sam was walking with his face to the floor, not noticing anything else.   
  
Donna packed up her purse, put on her coat and left without even saying goodbye to Josh.   
  
She couldn’t deal with the look on his face adding to the guilt on her back.  
  
***  
  
Donna didn’t let go of any of the guilt. Six hours later, it was still there with a vengeance. Twelve hours later, it was beginning to subside. Eighteen hours later, she had picked up a full three-course meal for Sam and was knocking on his door.  
  
“Sam?” she called out tentatively. “I bought you dinner. There’s salad, and a baked potato, and a turkey sandwich. I picked up some chocolate cake too!”  
  
“Did you sleep with him too?” Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “And if you did, I think we’re going to have to sleep together if that’s how you treat your conquests,” she added, looking pointedly at the chocolate cake.  
  
“Sam and I did not sleep together,” Donna said just as the door swung open. She took note of Sam’s generally ragged appearance – disheveled hair, bags under his eyes, pale demeanor.   
  
He still managed to give a faint grin. “You mean that wasn’t you in my office last night?”  
  
“No,” she shook her head. “But I can check the paper for pictures of you with a call girl,” she added helpfully.   
  
“Ouch,” he replied, wincing and going back into the office. She followed him in, standing nervously near the doorway. “I admit that was below the belt, but you said something about having a salad in there, so I can’t have you dragged out by security,” he said, studying the white bag she clutched.   
  
“Is security Ginger? I think I could take her,” Donna flexed her bicep jokingly. She nodded to the bag, handing it over to him. “A full meal, there’s even iced tea and water in there,” she said, watching as he opened the bag and peered in. He looked up at her, more confused than before. She beamed.  
  
“Donna?” he asked, pulling out the salad and a fork.  
  
“Yeah, Sam?”  
  
“Why did you buy me dinner for three?”   
  
“Because I’m nice?” Donna suggested. She clasped onto the guest chair, and withstood Sam’s scrutinizing stare for about ten seconds before she faltered and broke down, making her way around and sitting in the chair. “All right, I can’t do this anymore. I heard you and Josh last night, when you were…you were arguing about…” she trailed off, leaning forward to study him closer. “You slept here last night! Those are the same clothes!”  
  
“Donna, I…”  
  
“You did! You slept on Toby’s couch, didn’t you?”  
  
He sighed. “Yeah, but only because I had an early meeting.”  
  
“Sam,” she said gently. “Josh and I…we don’t…we’re not…”  
  
“Donna, you don’t have to cover for him,” Sam interrupted quietly, holding up a hand. He pushed the bag across the desk. “Take the rest, I’m happy with the salad and the water.”  
  
“But I’m not…” she began to protest.  
  
“Donna,” he cut her off again. She stood up, rolled her eyes and grabbed the bag in a fit. She shook her head as she left, stopping in the doorway and turning around to look at him. “He’s just being Josh,” he added. “You know?”  
  
“I do,” she agreed, closing the door behind her as she went back to her desk with dinner.   
  
She was settling in to enjoy the baked potato when Josh opened the door, looked around and settled his gaze on her desk. She raised her eyebrow and chewed slowly on her dinner. He slowly strutted over, and cleared his throat, a fistful of papers in his hand. She swallowed her food and looked up expectantly.  
  
“Yes, Josh?”  
  
“You got a minute?”  
  
“Technically, they’re all your minutes, seeing as I’m supposed to assist you,” she replied, putting her food down – damn, it was going to get cold, she whined mentally. She followed him into the office and felt a little more nervous when he closed the door behind him. “What’s going on?”  
  
He sat down in his chair, and she sat down as well, watching as he leaned forward on his elbows to stare at her. She sat there nervously, breaking the eye contact after a few seconds and looking anxiously around the room.  
  
“Josh, what…?”  
  
“Donna, are we in love?” Josh cut her off, the words barreling out of his mouth.  
  
Donna coughed, choking on nothing more than her own saliva, and her eyes widened. She looked at Josh incredulously, blinking and then pinching herself to check that this wasn’t a dream. He just kept staring up at her inquisitively. She raised an eyebrow, told her heart to calm down – because the last thing she needed right now was a heart attack.  
  
“Josh” she began softly, “you're what we like to call highly suggestible…” she tried to be as light as possible.  
  
“Are we?” Josh interrupted, still as serious as before.  
  
Donna hesitated. It was actually a valid question. She closed her eyes and searched for the answer. Was she in love with Josh? Thinking about it, she may have been, but every time she thought about an actual relationship with him, the wheels came off the train of thought. “Up to a point, very recently even,” she started slowly, opening her eyes and studying Josh’s face for his reaction. “I...thought we might have been.”  
  
“But...” Josh added, raising an expectant eyebrow. There was more and they both knew it.   
  
Donna knew how this went now. “But right now…there's part of you that's Sam's and his alone. I'm fine just loving you, Josh, so long as you never completely leave my life. But, no. No,” she said more vehemently, sure of herself. “I'm not in love with you, and I'm pretty sure that you aren't in love with me. I hope you realize that this is a good thing. You’re not exactly known for your commitment skills.”  
  
That was it and it was the truth, she realized.   
  
“I can hold my own,” Josh retorted defensively.   
  
Donna snorted. “Yeah, and I'm a top-notch policy advisor. Now, Joshua,” she began sternly, “you'd better love me though, or else you're going to get your ass kicked, Moss style.”  
  
Josh finally grinned – a wide, genuine beaming grin filled with affection – and Donna felt her uneasiness fade away. The situation was quickly beginning to feel normal again now that all Josh’s pesky insecurities were out of the way.  
  
“I couldn't ask for anyone better than you, Donnatella Moss,” he said warmly.   
  
“And?” She raised an eyebrow expectantly.   
  
“And I love you,” Josh added swiftly, not an ounce of insincerity in a single word.   
  
Donna nodded, getting up. “Declaration of love withstanding, my threat of violence remains on your head. Because even as we speak, Sam is sitting in his dark, quiet, moody office in deep pain that you have caused.”  
  
“I caused no pain!” he whined, indignation flickering over his features. He pointed to the door. “He yelled at me!”  
  
“You're highly suggestible,” she said sympathetically, pursing her lips together.   
  
“I am not!”  
  
“‘Donna, are we in love?’” she mocked him, rolling her eyes. Josh stood up, searching his desk and snatching a report. He passed her, and walked out the door. She followed him out, eyeing her dinner and knowing it was probably long cold by now.  
  
“Shut up,” he shot back, walking down the hall towards Communications.  
  
“It was your fault!” she called after him.   
  
He turned and raised an eyebrow at her. “You know, I can fire you.”  
  
“I'd like to see you try,” she muttered to herself in amusement, sitting down at her desk and poking at the baked potato before taking a bite of it. She’d been right, it wasn’t even warm anymore. The microwave in the mess was too far to go, and she wasn’t really that hungry. She wrapped the food up and put it away in Josh’s refrigerator in the closet. As she was brushing some of the dust off her hands, she noticed him coming back into the office, looking dejected.   
  
“Well?” she asked expectantly.  
  
“He won’t talk to me,” Josh muttered, collapsing in his chair and pressing his forehead flat to the desk. Donna frowned, pacing back and forth.   
  
“This will get better,” she said. “I’m sure of it.”  
  
“How?”  
  
How, indeed. Donna paused, thinking through all the options before falling back on the safe one. “C.J. said she had a solution.”  
  
“C.J. has lots of solutions. Is this the one where she figured out how to take over the world, the one where a mob boss whacks me, or the one to bring about world peace?” Josh replied easily, lifting his head off the desk finally.  
  
“The one where you and Sam keep your jobs,” Donna pointed at him with her pen.  
  
“I like that one,” Josh said.  
  
Donna sat down, tapping her pen on the desk thoughtfully. “Although, it’s got to be weird letting the  _Post_  get such a close look at your relationship,” she ruminated. When Josh didn’t immediately snap something back at her, she studied his face. He wouldn’t meet her eyes, and he certainly wasn’t saying anything.  
  
“Josh,” Donna said evenly.   
  
“Donnatella,” he replied.   
  
She didn’t hesitate to ask, but she did so very cautiously. “There is still a relationship to get a close look at, right?”  
  
“Uh…”  
  
“Josh!” she scolded him loudly.  
  
“Sam won’t talk to me!” he whined defensively.  
  
“But you guys made it through all those articles! Is this about…” she trailed off and cleared her throat. Josh finally looked at her. She leaned forward, furrowing her brow and asked in a quieter voice. “Is this because of me?”  
  
“Why would you think…” Josh sputtered.  
  
“Why else are you asking me if you think we’re in love, Joshua?” she cut him off, holding up one hand. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to snap at her yet, she looked down at his desk and continued. “I heard you two going at it the other night. Is this because of me?” she enunciated each and every word in her question and brought her gaze upwards to see his face when he answered.   
  
“Sam’s upset with  _me_ ,” he clarified. “No one else.”  
  
Donna paused in thought. There were the beginnings of a plan lurking in her brain and forming very slowly. “Right,” she murmured, distracted by the plan coming together more cohesively by the second.  
  
“Right?” Josh echoed her. “That’s it? Just…right?”  
  
“You’re going to woo him back,” Donna said decisively, her brain rushing with ideas now.  
  
“I’m going to…” he trailed off, cleared his throat and shook his head. “I’m sorry, what am I going to do?”  
  
“You’re going to woo Sam. I’m going to help you,” she announced brightly, perking up. “You’re going to keep your career, and I’m going to salvage your relationship!”  
  
“I can salvage it myself, thank you,” Josh said, scoffing. Donna gave him a dubious look, arching one eyebrow slowly. Josh cleared his throat and tugged at his collar slightly before looking down and stammering. “Yeah, kay. You’re going to salvage it for me.”  
  
“Let the games begin,” Donna announced happily.   
  
THE END **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> THE WHITE HOUSE SHOWS ITS TRUE COLORS
> 
> By Danny Concannon  
> Washington Post
> 
> WASHINGTON – In a country where gay pride is found everywhere, same-sex marriage is a hot button, and being ‘queer as folk’ is television’s latest trend, the White House is not far behind to join this movement within its own walls, but not in any conventional method such as a ballot of support. Statements from the White House in the past few weeks have confirmed that two Senior Staffers, Deputy Communications Director Samuel Seaborn, and Deputy Chief of Staff Joshua Lyman, have proclivities toward the male sex and are now involved. 
> 
> The newest ruminations and whispers around Washington are wondering whether this particular hook-up is nothing more than a career move on Sam Seaborn’s part. During a freshman year filled with loose morals and even looser public discretion from Seaborn, he found himself the name in the news over a woman of questionable vocation. It seems that his newest coupling with its heavily liberal leanings is coming too quickly on the heels of that particular disaster, which spells out trouble for the West Wing.
> 
> Many theories have been running rampant through Washington, but this latest is quick to say that Seaborn was desperate to hold onto his job and took advantage of an old friendship and even older feelings to get a tighter grasp on his job as Deputy Communications Director. An affair with the Deputy Chief of Staff would surely be worth its weight in gold, if only for the gravitas that Lyman holds. Josh Lyman is widely known as someone not to be messed with. With the latest push for campaign finance reform, Lyman is out on the front lines gunning to win and has no intention of losing. 
> 
> It could be argued that the Bartlet administration wishes to push forward gay rights as an agenda, and to make it their legacy they’d prefer to show, not tell. Whether this is a careerist strike, or a political strategy, President Jed Bartlet finds himself in a particular rough spot. Stuck between the perils of Scylla and Charybdis, neither Josh Lyman nor Sam Seaborn can be easily dismissed anymore after so many support groups have picked up on their cause. Yet, those on the right side of the spectrum and anti-gay activists are calling for revolution. 
> 
> Even more puzzling is the lack of a clear-cut statement from the press office of the White House. After a previous article with thePost reported on the more open-minded leanings of some of the White House staff, all that’s been offered were brief words from C.J. Cregg in that, “the personal lives of the White House staffers have no bearing on policy. They will work just as hard on all the bills and laws that come into the building and will not show any preference in cases specific towards their sexual orientation.” There was no lobby of support from the President, the Chief of Staff or any other key Senior Staff. 
> 
> This is hardly a crucible, but is still a test for the Bartlet Administration to weather. Currently, they are lacking a compass to guide them, without a moral center in expressing support, and utterly devoid of direction in the case of relevant policy and personal staff guidelines.
> 
> The Bartlet Administration, just barely into its sophomore year, has known better days.


End file.
